Destiny Twisted
by firewolfsg
Summary: The Gods of the Old Religion extracted an unusual revenge upon Merlin for the events in "Le Morte d'Arthur." And it leaves him, Arthur and the rest of the court of Camelot to adept to what has happened. Pre-slash, Crack!Fic: Merlin!Merlin
1. Destiny Twisted

DISCLAIMER: The characters in Merlin (BBC) belong to Shine Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.  
I'm just borrowing them for a while to spin a tale

* * *

**Destiny Twisted**  
By firewolf  
March 2009

Arthur had feared the worst when he found himself sitting beside his father in the audience chambers and stiffly awaiting the return of his manservant and the Court Physician. Arthur hadn't the faintest idea what was going through his father's mind, but the man had reached to grip his hand and hold it ever since they sat down and refused to release it while they waited.

He cursed himself again for drawing attention to Merlin and Gaius' absence when he tried to ride out earlier that morning. But he couldn't have helped himself. Not when he finally realised the true meaning of Merlin's words to him the previous night. Even so, it had been a foolish decision for him to try and leave the castle when he was still weakened from his brush with death. It had been fortunate that Sir Caradoc had noticed his liege attempt to mount his horse and was near enough to catch him when he toppled from his restless charger.

His father had been furious with him. However, Arthur couldn't begin to describe the King's reaction when he stormed into Gaius' quarters to find the Physician also absent and Merlin's mother, Hunith gravely ill and almost delirious with worry about her son. Linking this with Arthur's own miraculous recovery the day before, it was easy enough then for them to put two and two together and realise that Merlin, possibly with Gaius' collaboration, had made a pact with a sorcerer or possibly sorceress for Arthur's life.

By mid morning, they had received word that Hunith was recovering. At early afternoon, a cry came from the gates of the physician's return. Arthur could feel great distress begin to fill his heart to hear that his manservant was not with him. At this news, Uther gave his son an unreadable look before he commanded word to be sent for Gaius to attend to them immediately upon arrival.

"Arthur…" Uther spoke softly as soon as they were alone again. "I—am not ungrateful. With this, your manservant has shown love and loyalty for you that can seldom be equalled—"

"He is not dead," Arthur gritted, his eyes feeling uncomfortably hot. "I will not believe—"

"Morgana's maid has reported that the boy's mother has miraculously recovered, Arthur. And—Gaius has returned alone." Uther's hand tightened over Arthur's. "I know you are uncommonly fond of the boy, but I have had experience with the cruelty of magic, my son. That is why I hate it and disapprove of its use."

"Father—"

"I disapprove," Uther looked his son in the eye fiercely, though his voice gentled with his next words. "But I am not ungrateful for your manservant's sacrifice, Arthur."

"He can't be dead…" Arthur told him numbly. "He's—he's just a—a servant…"

Uther didn't challenge Arthur on his words though he didn't believe the boy to be 'just a servant' as his son tried to claim. As infrequently as he saw Arthur's interactions with his manservant, and as inappropriate as the King felt the relationship, even Uther could see that Merlin was more a true friend to his son than a mere manservant. However, further thoughts on this matter had to be postponed with the arrival of the Court Physician.

Uther could not help himself from sitting forward in alarm and worry for the state of his old friend. Gaius looked truly bedraggled and haggard in his rain soaked cloak and robes as he hugged a small pack against his chest. The man was practically trailing a puddle after him.

"Good Lord! Gaius! While I asked for your immediate attendance, I am not so unreasonable as to not allow you to change into dry clothes."

"Wha—" The man's heavy heart and complete misery could not be more clearly illustrated than with his soft word of confusion.

"Gaius! About—Merlin?" Arthur couldn't help but ask. "Was he to follow after you?"

Uther laid a hand on Arthur's arm. "Arthur…" He didn't want his son to keep up his false hope.

"Sire, I—we—"

"Gaius. We are not blind." Uther told the trembling man firmly. "I can guess that—young Merlin made a bargain with a sorcerer for Arthur's life. And that he has paid a price…"

Gaius' shoulders seemed to shake as he laughed softly to himself. "A price? Yes, he did…"

"While I know my own laws on the use of magic… Gaius, we are not ungrateful," Uther told him gently. "I will see that this mother, Hunith, is richly compensated."

"She is dead, you know?"

"Hunith?" Uther looked at him in surprise. "No? I was given to understand by Morgana's maid that—"

"No. Not Merlin's mother. Nimueh." Gaius looked up at them with a wry smile. "Merlin—She wouldn't accept his life in exchange. She was determined to take mine. And he objected, of course.

"She—she blasted him. She must have thought she killed him. But Merlin—he had a sword with him; a sword of iron."

Uther was shocked. "He ran her through?!"

"I suppose he did. And that was apparently accepted as the life traded for Arthur's since I'm here telling you this, Sire."

Arthur stared at him in shock and hope. "But—But if Merlin's okay then why didn't he return with you?"

At this question, Gaius deflated. "He did not escape this unscathed," the physician told them sadly.

"Gaius?" Uther huffed at the old man. "I won't punish the boy for his foolishness in seeking out—Nimueh of all people to trade with for my son's life. How ever he managed it, my son is alive and recovering and an old enemy is dead. I would go so far as to hold a feast in his honour for his bravery and loyalty.

"If Merlin was hurt, all the more he should return so we may have him treated and—"

Gaius looked up at them with faint relief at last to be given assurance of the King's still favourable notice in spite of the involvement of magic, but his expression was still sad. "He—Merlin was changed, Sire. Nimueh was apparently the high priestess of the Old Religion. The—the gods did not take kindly to her death and—bound the boy to the isle in her place."

"He's trapped?!" Arthur looked appalled.

"They tried to force Nimueh's magic upon him—but he refused it, Sire."

Uther could feel his heart pounding to hear Gaius' words, though he calmed on realising how the man had ended his statement. How ever much he would accept the boy for his bravery and loyalty, Uther knew he couldn't have tolerated it if the boy returned with magic. However, thinking of Gaius' words again… "What happened to the boy then?"

Gaius looked down at the bundle he was hugging to his chest. It was only then that the two men realised it wasn't a bag of belongings, and that the rags appeared to look like one of Merlin's jackets. The physician carefully unfolded the cloth he was holding to reveal an equally bedraggled bird wrapped within the nest of clothes; a young falcon.

Arthur surged forward, unable to stop himself. "Merlin?!"

The bird looked up to blink at his prince blurrily before letting out a soft cry which sounded to them like assent. Gaius sighed as he looked from the stunned Prince to his equally stunned Lord. "In name, so is he in form now. Merlin has been cursed to never be able to walk as a man away from the isle that is the centre of power for the Old Religion.

"And I don't know if it's possible to ever restore him."

* * *

Of all things to happen within his court, Uther never imagined anything like what was done to Arthur's manservant. He thought the Gods of the Old Religion must have had a particular humour to make the boy an actual Merlin. Why couldn't they just deal punishments out in the ordinary mundane fashion? They had already nearly killed the poor boy with his transformation.

The weeks that followed Gaius' return were fraught with worry since the tiny bird had taken ill with a cold after their drenching in the rain. And the Physician had been in a right state trying to nurse the poor bird back to health when he was only familiar with human anatomy. Gaius couldn't exactly feed the Merlin any of his usual foul but effective concoctions.

And Arthur…? Uther didn't have the heart to force his son to give up on his transformed manservant. And Morgana's maid had in fact been given a promotion of sorts to attended to both the Prince and her lady with a small contingent of lower servants in attendance to her orders. As inappropriate as he thought it was for his son and ward to pay so much special attention to the transformed manservant, Uther couldn't feel in him the urgency to call them in front of him and order them to leave the bird—boy alone. And—Uther also supposed he really did feel concern for the awkward youth too; though he'd never admit to such an appalling claim.

Eventually though, the little Merlin did recover from its illness. And even Hunith was comfortable enough to be persuaded to return home and leave her son in Gaius' and Arthur's care; which led one morning, to a curious noise being heard outside Uther's window. It drew his attention away from his boring paperwork so the King was, to be honest, quite glad for a little distraction.

Contrary to the usual bark of orders from his son drilling their knights, or the sounds of clashing steel; this clanging sounded more like—running. Looking outside, Uther was treated to the unusual sight of several of Arthur's knights running around the practice yard while they tossed a flapping bird from hand to hand.

"Merlin! Come on! Flap harder! You're a falcon! You'll need to learn how to fly at sometime!" Arthur called from the sidelines where he sat still nursing his arm in a sling.

The clearly irritated cry from the frustrated bird pierced the air as the knights, in full clanging armour, continued to run in circles while taking turns to toss the bird in the air as it flapped its wings furiously, then letting another man catch it to begin the sequence once again. Uther didn't know whether to be completely mortified or laugh at the hilarious scene they presented.

Still, the tossing about was seeming to work as the falcon slowly appeared to be getting a hang of staying in the air for a longer and longer period until it launched itself straight up and into the sky with a triumphant screech that had the whole practice yard cheering and clapping. The Merlin soared majestically around the castle and the practice yard for several minutes making Uther smile at its seeming unbridled joy of being airborne, until he began to notice some rather distressed cries coming from the bird.

Having realized this too, Arthur was calling out to the falcon as it circled overhead. "Merlin? Merlin? What's wrong? Come down and we'll fix it if you're still not well."

The falcon cried out to them again. A slow understanding of the problem came to Uther at the same moment as one of the other knights in the field. The man trotted over to his prince to whisper in Arthur's ear. Even from the window, Uther could see the light of comprehension dawn upon his son's face.

"Merlin!?" Arthur's exasperated yell resounded in the practice yard. "I know you were the most incompetent manservant I've ever known, but how could you be the most incompetent bird alive too?! Shouldn't landing be as instinctive as flying?!"

The Merlin 's screech of reply was distinctly affronted as it circled the heads of the knights. Uther could predict that this wasn't going to end well. On the ground, the knights looked frantically around them until they spied the practice dummy and quickly wheeled it into the centre of the yard.

"Good show!" Arthur praised his knights before directing his next words to the sky. "Merlin! Try landing on that!"

The whole practice yard seemingly held its breath as the little falcon circled a last time, then swooped down with claws reaching out to catch the shoulder of the dummy. Unfortunately, since Merlin was honestly still very new at this, he missed his mark and his claws sank into the head of the dummy instead and got caught in the fabric. On top of that, he hadn't apparently slowed his speed of approach enough, and for such a tiny falcon, Merlin still managed to hit the dummy with enough force that he toppled the whole thing; making it fly off the ground in a near perfect summersault that ended with the hapless falcon on the bottom.

"Merlin!!" The whole yard practically roared as the knights rushed over to the wood and straw dummy to right it in a hurry. Uther could feel his heart in his mouth as well to wonder if the bird hadn't just crushed itself to death.

The Merlin let out a piteous cry, bringing a breath of relief to everyone who could hear that it was still alive. One of the knights gently disentangled its claws from the shredded head of the dummy in time to hand the stunned falcon to his approaching prince.

Uther found himself considering the situation quite thoughtfully as he watched the knights milling around behind Arthur while he rested the tiny falcon within his sling and gently checked it with his other hand. A few were examining the practice dummy and looking quite pale as they stared from the completely mauled head of the dummy to the bird their prince was fussing over.

Noticing their divided attention, Arthur had looked up at the ruined state of the dummy and blanched as well before turning to the falcon in his sling. Uther couldn't hear his son's words, but from the gestures and the responding muted whistle of agreement, he could guess that Arthur must have suggested they work on Merlin's landings before they had him flying around again.

Giving his knights a nod and a few last instructions, Arthur departed in the direction of the Court Physician's quarters. Uther supposed it was to have Merlin checked out for any lasting injury after that spectacular tumble.

Uther chose then to leave his window and return to his paperwork. However, he couldn't immediately turn his concentration to the harvest reports. Instead, the King rather quickly found himself with his face buried in one arm while his other hand pounded on the table as he laughed uproariously. Truly, the King was rather glad Arthur's manservant was all right and back in court again. Life certainly was a whole lot more entertaining with the bird—boy around.

Uther had to admit to himself though that he was in two minds whether he hoped Gaius would eventually manage to find a way to restore the boy to his natural form or leave him as the tiny raptor. From the state of the practice dummy—Uther knew that Merlin was actually showing unnatural strength for being such a tiny bird. If Arthur trained him well, Uther could see Merlin being a very useful asset to the knights.

~end~

* * *

Thanks for reading.  
Cheers, firewolf


	2. Incentive to Learn

DISCLAIMER: The characters in Merlin (BBC) belong to Shine Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.  
I'm just borrowing them for a while to spin a tale

* * *

**Incentive to Learn**  
By firewolf  
March 2009

It was no question to Arthur that Merlin had to learn how to fly properly. And land without injury to himself, property, or any friend he would choose for a ride on a shoulder. However, trying to get that through to his stupid manservant who couldn't exactly talk back was really starting to stretch Arthur's patience.

After the whole dummy episode in the practice yard where the little falcon was almost crushed to death under said dummy, and further spent a week too sore to move, Merlin had stubbornly refused to leave his room in the Physician's quarters. It seemed as if he was bent on just hiding in his rooms until Gaius found a way to restore him.

The one time Arthur did forcefully take him to the practice yard, the shameless bird had determinedly attempted to *walk* off the training field. Arthur thought that he had never been so mortified in his life. And Morgana and Gwen did not help at all when they fluttered into the yard to rescue the little Merlin from the laughing, 'bullying' knights and carried him the rest of the way home.

Arthur would swear that Morgana and Gwen were practically spoiling his manservant with the way they happily carted him around the castle. And like it as not to admit it, Arthur was not happy to see Merlin spend most of the day perched on Gwen's shoulder, or sitting in the crook of her arm as she moved about her chores in the castle whenever he deigned to leave his room.

At the least, Merlin still let Arthur feed him. Be it in his quarters or at the King's table, where the raptor would spend the meal perched on the head of Arthur's chair where the Prince could casually reach a hand up to offer him slices of meat. Really, Merlin was such a small and skinny little bird that Arthur saw it as a duty to fatten him up and put more meat on his bones.

Teaching him to be a proper falcon, however…

Arthur was truly at his wits end trying to reason with his uncommunicative manservant on why he wouldn't try again. His first flight was a spectacular travesty, but Arthur didn't believe Merlin should give up so readily. However, he just couldn't work out how to convince the stubborn bird—boy to reconsider his decision and learn how to be a proper raptor while they waited for either Gaius or Geoffrey to discover how to turn him back into a man.

Unexpectedly, Gwen played a significant part in delivering Merlin into a situation which did much to prompt his change of mind.

* * *

Merlin sang sweetly on Gwen's shoulder as she walked them towards the kitchens. Gwen smiled up at the little raptor as she walked, knowing that Merlin enjoyed visiting the kitchens. He didn't take food from the kitchen help, since that was rather obviously the Prince's privilege to feed *his* raptor, and the staff knew it. But he did take notice that the head cook Mary, was one of the few people in the castle who would talk to him as if he was still Merlin, and not this fascinating freak pet of the Prince.

"Ahh, Gwen, love. Merlin, dear boy? Come for a little natter?" The jolly old maid smiled as she looked up at their entrance.

Gwen laughed, "If we could only be so free. I came to check on how our stores are, Mary. The Prince asked if you needed him to send his knights out to pick up some game."

The Wiley old woman shook her finger at them. "Oh ho! He's not getting one over this head cook. Our Liege is trying to get Gaius to let him out early, isn't he? Thinks he'd just sneak out with his knights for a little hunting rather than be stuck in the castle?"

Gwen grinned at her, and Merlin let out a cry of assent as he bobbed his head at the woman. Arthur could sometimes be a little too obvious.

"No need for the Prince to strain himself, luv." Mary waved behind her where there were several near floor-to-ceiling stacks of baskets full of geese. "We may have run out of venison a day or so back, but we still have several legs of ham and received a flock of birds enough for tonight's feast and several more days of supper too."

Gwen's jaw dropped at that moment. "Oh! Feathers! Oh no. I forgot! M'lady asked me to pick up a new pillow for her at the market." She turned to the raptor on her shoulder. "Oh, Merlin. I'm so sorry, Gaius' quarters are in the other direction and—maybe, do you want to come to the markets with me?

"Of course you don't have to. Not that I don't want you to, but it was such a mess the last time I brought you there. The children were just too excited to see a Merlin up close and kept pulling your tail and feathers, but—"

He hopped off her shoulder to land on the table and chirruped soothingly as he waved a wing at her. Merlin shook out his feathers and shuddered, clearly indicating his reluctance to visit the markets ever again.

"Are you sure you'll be okay getting back to Gaius' on your own?" She bit her lower lip nervously. "I could nip down that way first. I'm sure I won't be too late getting to the markets before the stores start to pack up."

The Merlin shook its head at her and hopped down to the floor this time. It waved its wings a bit to assist it in taking a longer hop across the floor to land in front of the corridor which would lead it towards Gaius' quarters.

"Well—if you're sure?" Merlin chirruped at her and raised a wing as if to wave her off. "Okay, I'll see you later then, Merlin. And you too, Mary, I'm sure the feast will be just fabulous with your excellent cooking.

"Oh, M'lady might be looking for me. So if you do meet up with her on the track back, Merlin, please try to convey to her that I won't be too long?"

The raptor whistled to her in assent. It made the kitchen help chuckle softly around them. Truly, watching the little raptor with the few who talked to him often gave many the impression that Merlin had lost very little in making himself understood despite his transformation.

Merlin looked up at the cook after Gwen went out the other corridor. "Well, you best be off too, boy." She made shooing motions at the little raptor. "We're about to start on the geese, and you don't want to be around to get mixed up in that."

Merlin whistled as he bobbed his head at her and turned to start walking down the corridor. Behind him the cook and her kitchen helpers politely stifled a laugh at this incongruous sight of the little bird of prey walking instead of taking to the air and flying.

Unfortunately, one of the boys was not very careful since he was paying too much attention to the departing raptor to watch where he was going with his pile of chopping blocks. So he walked into a tower of cages with enough force that the whole stack started to sway.

Merlin was almost started into flight by the enormous crash that boomed behind him, and he turned in time to witness piles and piles of cages bursting open and releasing a whole gaggle of geese; all which flocked for 'his' corridor in a bid for freedom. A yell from cook had one of her kitchen helpers diving for and slamming the door. However, one rather determined bird slipped through in a flurry of feathers. And Merlin was suddenly feeling rather small in comparison to this huge specimen sharing his corridor; a bird which had probably spent quite a few months being fed and fattened to be as large a size as a goose could possibly grow.

* * *

Arthur was bored. Being strictly confined to the castle and having his hours of training and supervision of his knights severely curtailed, while he was still recovering from the wound dealt to him by the Questing Beast, left him greatly out of sorts over all the free time he had. On top of that, with Merlin's unfortunate transformation, he didn't even have a manservant to be snarky with for entertainment.

He rather thought his only hope for some relief was with Mary to agree that she could do with some game. Maybe then he'd be able to sneak out of the castle to ride with his knights for a bit of hunting. If his men objected, Arthur thought he could persuade them that he'd just be joining them for company and that he wouldn't try to take part and overexert himself. While he had sent Gwen to talk to the cook, Arthur was restless enough that he thought maybe a personal visit from him might produce better results; which was what brought him down the corridor towards the kitchens.

A bit lost in his thoughts, Arthur hadn't noticed the commotion ahead of him until he was five feet away from the spectacle that appeared screaming around a corner. And when he saw it, the Prince wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry to see a huge snow white goose chasing and stabbing its beak at a little raptor which was squalling quite pathetically as it desperately tried to out run its pursuer.

"Merlin!?" Arthur's mortified yell served to distract the goose, making it stop to stare at the human who suddenly appeared in their path, providing its harassed quarry a respite from attack.

Not missing a beat, Merlin ran and hopped towards his Prince until he reached Arthur's boots and started clawing his way up his breeches. Arthur hastily reached down to catch at the Merlin's feet before his talons could penetrate the cloth and do serious damage to his leg.

Safely lifting the wild eyed bird on his right arm, Arthur stared at his transformed manservant in grave disappointment. "Honestly, Mer-lin. A goose? You were *running* *away* from a *goose*?"

The bird panted as it screeched at Arthur, making him roll his eyes at the raptor. "Yes, yes. I did notice you were smaller. But you're a bird of prey, Merlin! You have *claws* and a *sharp* beak! You *eat* meat! Not like that--"

A menacing hiss sounded from down the corridor. Man and raptor instantly turned their heads towards the goose which had now unfurled its wings and started to—stalk towards them. Arthur found himself taken aback. In all honesty, the Prince couldn't quite recall ever seeing a goose that was this remarkably large. And—in comparison, Merlin really was pathetically small and scrawny. Arthur was reminded again that he needed to be more diligent in feeding his falco—manservant.

The goose hissed at them again. He gulped. With Merlin starting a mincing climb up his right arm to his shoulder in an attempt to reach higher ground, and his left still in a sling, Arthur didn't exactly have a free hand to reach for his sword. Then he suddenly remembered he *wasn't* carrying a sword that day. Gaius still hadn't cleared him to carry arms again yet.

The hissing goose took another purposeful step towards them, making Arthur take an involuntary step back. By then, Merlin had made it to his shoulder and his trembling body was pressed tight against Arthur's head.

Now this was plainly ridiculous. Arthur knew his manservant wasn't a coward. The idiot boy had followed him on missions and quests and ran *towards* danger to be at his side more times than Arthur cared to count. However, he could practically taste the fear in the air as the demonic goose stared them down with its beady little eyes.

The pint sized monster advanced another step and Arthur felt his back hit the wall behind him. They could sense their adversary gathering itself for an attack. Merlin chirruped worriedly in his ear. Arthur could hear himself swallow hard. He dared not to break eye contact with the demon. And this was why he missed noticing the flash of metal that suddenly flew at their enemy from the side corridor and neatly sliced clean through the neck of the beast.

"Ha! Got you!" A triumphant cry came from the said corridor which was mercifully completely out of sight of Arthur and Merlin's position.

Old Mary bore down on the headless goose which flopped and jerked in its death spasm. "Thought you could escape my roasting pit, did you?" The plump old cook jerked her cleaver from the stone and snatched up the dead goose in her other hand.

Man and bird barely dared to breath, afraid that they'd catch the woman's attention and reveal themselves and their ignominy. Fortunately for them, Mary was only concerned with the runaway goose and turned around in the opposite direction, and so did not notice their presence at all, allowing the pair to shamefully beat a quiet and hasty retreat.

Once safely away, Arthur turned his head to glare at the little falcon that had moved to sit properly on his shoulder instead of pressed up against his head as it had been earlier, "We are *never* speaking of this. Ever!"

Merlin chirruped in agreement as he tucked his head under a wing. But the bird jerked his head out from hiding again in alarm as he turned to stare further down the corridor. Arthur looked in the direction Merlin indicated to find Morgana watching them with hands clapped over her mouth. Her eyes danced in wicked delight. It was very clear to the humiliated pair that the King's ward had very likely witnessed the entire confrontation.

Merlin let out a soft whistle while he hunched his shoulders and let his head hang down. Arthur gritted his teeth as he stalked towards his 'adopted' sister. His eyes fairly glowed with the chill of promised death.

* * *

Uther was sensitive enough to notice the tensed atmosphere in the dining hall during the feast. He was quite sure he was missing something, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was. The only thing he could discern was the near murderous look of warning his son would frequently throw his ward from across the table. It was an impressive glare at that. And Uther actually felt quite proud of his son for developing this subzero look of death.

Morgana, however, didn't seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, she looked like a cat which found a whole barrel of cream, and her lips were twitching almost constantly through the whole feast. Still, under Arthur's steady glare throughout the night, her smile did eventually falter and die. Especially whenever Uther tried to get her to reveal what had amused her so much. The King thought that they were being utterly unfair to him.

Morgana's maid and the little falcon were no better in enlightening the King. The girl stayed very respectfully quiet and timid around the Prince. As for Merlin; for once his son wasn't spending part of the meal trying to coax the skinny bird into eating every morsel offered from his hand. During this feast, Merlin gleefully tore into the generous slices of cooked goose with quite a bit more fervour and pleasure than Uther could ever recall of the little raptor during any other meal. Uther thought the bird must have been especially hungry since it was usually a dainty eater.

Come to think of it, Arthur seemed to be stabbing into his share of the goose with great relish too. Uther didn't know his son enjoyed eating goose that much. He had always thought Arthur's favourite meat was venison.

* * *

The next morning when Arthur appeared at Gaius' quarters determined to bring Merlin out for a flying lesson, the little falcon went quietly and without protest.

~end~

* * *

Thanks for reading.  
Cheers, firewolf


	3. Adapting to Change

DISCLAIMER: The characters in Merlin (BBC) belong to Shine Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.  
I'm just borrowing them for a while to spin a tale

* * *

**Adapting to Change**  
By firewolf  
July 2009

Despite the 'incident' with the goose, Merlin would still occasionally have the difficult day when he'd refuse to practice flying. On those days, the little raptor would stubbornly walk off the practise grounds while ignoring the laughing knights and Arthur's despairing countenance at his manser—falcon—manservant's shameless behaviour.

Then again, to make them stop hackling him, all Merlin had to do was eye the front line of the laughing Knights, bend forward and wiggle his tail feathers as if he was about to launch himself at them. The Knights would rather quickly remember the number of practice dummies the little falcon had shredded and destroyed since Arthur started trying to teach him how to fly and land, and they'd scatter. Fast. Those times when he'd be suddenly left standing alone in the practice yard, Arthur was never quite sure who to be more exasperated with, his Merlin or his men.

At the least, Arthur was assured that there were never any hard feelings between Merlin and his Knights. Merlin had long won the respect and consideration of Arthur's Knights with his loyalty and sacrifice for their Prince. And Merlin never stayed so angry with the laughing knights that he'd refuse an offered arm to hop on and be carried back to the Court Physician's quarters.

It was also good that the knights very willingly assisted in Merlin's flying lessons. Of course this was helped in no small part by Morgana and the many ladies of the court, who would quite happily sit by their windows while the knights took turns to boost an awkwardly flapping Merlin up towards them with a trinket in his claws, or a flower clenched in his beak; and then wait below to catch him as he carried back ribbons or scarves from the blushing ladies in return.

Arthur might have objected to the blatant use of his falco—manservant as a tool for flirting between the two groups, but Merlin didn't seem to mind and he was getting better at judging his flight to land safely. In the beginning, it had looked like the little falcon might crash into the castle wall more often then he'd land at the target window. However, Merlin was fortunately a quick study when aiming as he flew up to the ladies. So no one had any worry about his safety, or even the safety of the participating ladies who were all very quick to coo over and praise the little raptor when he landed neatly on their window sill, or on the balcony near them.

Unfortunately, Merlin wasn't very good coming down, which made Arthur suspect that his falc—manservant had a fear of heights that made him clumsy whenever he caught sight of the ground rushing up at him. After all, there was a time or two when Arthur was sure his poor Merlin only avoided injury due to his Knights' attentiveness in catching him before he went splat on the hard stone of the courtyard. (Of course, no one ever told Arthur that his Knights feared his retribution too if anything untoward were to happen to Merlin while he was in their care.)

When flying up to a target or even flying laterally when Arthur would have his knights tossing the flapping raptor from man to man around the practice yard, Merlin was catching on quite nicely in landing safely and lightly upon an offered perch. But the moment he was sent flying up at any decent height, the little falcon's return and landing was utter rubbish. Honestly, Arthur swore Merlin was really the most incompetent bird alive to be afraid of heights.

* * *

Uther was not an ungrateful man. He truly was glad that his son had an astoundingly loyal and protective servant with Gaius' apprentice. However, it was difficult for him to close an eye and deal with the at times embarrassing antics caused in his court by the (he was sure) mentally afflicted boy. It wasn't any better after the boy was turned into a Merlin either.

Still, he couldn't say it wasn't amusing to see the little falcon walking around his castle. Occasionally, it was even funnier because the Prince would be seen easily keeping pace as he walked behind Merlin, and rather obviously nagging him about being a useless bird who needed to practise and to not give up with the whole flying deal.

Unfortunately, Merlin's penchant for walking also placed the raptor in often difficult situations. On one such occasion, Uther was led to investigate a cacophony of terrible snarls and piercing cries coming from a corridor he had been passing on his way back to his rooms. Uther had hurried towards the sounds to come upon his son extracting his falco—manservant from an altercation with a rather large cat.

"Really, Merlin, have you no sense of self preservation?" The King had watched with some amusement as his son tried to smooth down Merlin's ruffled feathers and check him for injuries while a disgruntled and equally bedraggled cat slinked away. "You'd run from a goose, but launch yourself at a cat? What on earth were you thinking?"

At the word 'goose', Uther was immediately reminded of a recent feast and the fervour with which Arthur and his falcon had attacked their dinner of roast goose that night. It was the same moment Arthur turned to notice his father's silent presence. And in one look Uther could see that his son recognised the suspected knowledge on his face.

It was his son's bright blush which confirmed Uther's suspicions as he also remembered Morgana's barely concealed humour and twitching lips that night. Arthur's face went impossibly redder as Uther's lips began to twitch as well.

"Sire." Arthur bowed stiffly and tried to stride quickly past while carrying an equally contrite Merlin, but Uther just could not resist the temptation.

"You know, Arthur… Geese, well—can be—formidable when they put their mind to it. Swans too, you know?

"Gaius can tell you of the time one of our Knights had an arm broken by an attacking swan. Terrible beasts…"

Arthur hung his head as he shuffled past, muttering something about seeing Gaius to make sure Merlin wasn't seriously hurt by the cat before scurrying away at all speed. Uther hurried back to his rooms to laugh into a pillow. It would never do for him to lose his composure in public; he'd completely ruin his reputation as a severe and serious King. But by Gods, he hadn't had this much fun in ages.

* * *

For all the amusement and comedy that had entered their lives since Arthur's manservant became his Merlin, there were times when Uther would be reminded of the falc—boy's loyal and protective nature. And Uther really could not ever fault Merlin's devotion to his son no matter what form he's in.

In celebration of his son's recovery from the poison of the Questing Beast, Uther had held a special weeklong festival tournament. And in consideration for Arthur's earlier expressed views, Uther had allowed the participation of commoners; with the winner being offered gold as well as the opportunity to join the Knights of Camelot.

The slight bending of the rules was worth the delight and joy that his son had expressed at this generous offer; especially when the formerly disgraced fake-noble, Lancelot had returned to Camelot to take part in the tournament. It was also a good distraction for Arthur when his son was still too weak to take part in the tournament himself, and was reluctantly relegated to sitting with him and Morgana in the audience.

Magical treachery, however, never seemed to take a holiday. And Uther was reminded of how glad he was for Merlin's transformation into his namesake when the little raptor had launched himself from his son's chair to catch a dagger that a disguised sorcerer contestant had thrown at him after unfairly defeating Lancelot, who had been his final opponent.

The Merlin was magnificent in his attack, and Uther would not be ashamed to say that he had been truly stunned breathless by the ferocity with which the little raptor had assaulted the would-be-assassin. Merlin had even used the sorcerer's own dagger against him, having gripped it firmly in his claws to slash at the man as he winged in and out in tight circles around the cursing man who kept trying to swing his shield at the Merlin and missing. Uther could tell by the man's unevenly glowing hand that the sorcerer repeatedly tried to cast a spell, but the Merlin was harassing him too much; distracting him long enough for Lancelot to regain consciousness and come to his feet with his sword in hand once more.

The battle that followed of sorcerer versus knight-hopeful and enchanted Merlin was nothing short of spectacular. The Merlin kept the sorcerer from casting spells with his slashing attacks, allowing the desperate sorcerer room only to fight with sword and shield against Lancelot. And in this battle with blades alone, Lancelot was clearly the better man. It did not take long at all for the determined knight-hopeful to bring the battle to an end with a sword through the sorcerer's heart.

The sudden start and end of the drama had shocked everyone into silence. But the moment the sorcerer fell and the Merlin soared overhead with a triumphant scream, the entire crowd had roared and clapped their approval for the dazzling save of their beloved prince.

Unfortunately, the elation at the royal stands quite quickly turned to chagrin when Uther's son gave him an embarrassed look. Uther could only sigh as he gestured for the guards to politely clear the stands and leave the grounds to be secured by Arthur and his Knights.

"Arthur, you *really* need to teach your Merlin how to land. It's rather--"

"Shameful." Arthur huffed as he eyed the circling Merlin. "I know—he knows it too, but Merlin's—afraidofheights."

Uther thought he hadn't heard that right. "Arthur? He is a bird…"

"And a most incompetent one." Arthur pouted as he noticed the knights standing on the tournament grounds staring fearfully up at the Merlin. "Merlin! Will you please drop the dagger?! No one will offer to catch you if they're in danger of being stabbed!"

The Merlin screeched down at Arthur, but he did swoop down to send the dagger flying at a conveniently placed archery target. Taking the hint as well, the group of knights got into a huddle and were apparently drawing straws until one unfortunate fellow was finally chosen.

"You should give Merlin a break, Arthur. He is trying. And—after all, he wasn't born a bird." Morgana seemed the only one willing to defend the hapless Merlin.

"Yes, but really—I've talked to Gaius regarding stories about animal transformations. And I had always thought the instincts of the animal were given to the sorcerer when they transformed themselves."

"But Merlin didn't transform himself." Morgana reminded Arthur. "According to Gaius, he collapsed into this form involuntarily when they left the Isle of the Blessed."

"Involuntary or not, he's a bird. You'd think the instincts should go with the form." Arthur protested reasonably.

Uther was only half listening to his son and ward. Most of his attention was on the archery target where Merlin had released the dagger. The dagger was still vibrating where it had landed dead centre in the target, and the King was wondering if this was deliberate.

A cry from the circling Merlin brought their attention back to it, and to the 'lucky' knight who was now well bundled and padded by his comrades about neck, shoulders, chest and helmeted head with wall hangings obviously confiscated from the walls of the tournament grounds. The Merlin cried out again.

"No, they're not trying to be insulting, Merlin!" Arthur called to the raptor which screeched back at him. "Yes, the precautions are warranted! You still don't know your own strength, Merlin!

"Now come on down!" Arthur continued as the other knights nodded to him and backed away from their fortified companion. "Sir Caradoc's as ready as he can be to catch you!"

Merlin tried, but he still whumphed into the Knight's chest with enough force to knock him off his feet and send him flying back several metres. Lancelot hurried over to lift the stunned Merlin off the fallen knight.

"Thank you, Sir Caradoc. Are you all right?" The knight moaned from where he was lying flat on his back. "Er… Gaius!"

A couple of knights strode over to help their comrade sit up while they unwrapped the wall hangings from around him to let the court physician give him a check up. Lancelot left them to it to approach the audience stand and pass the still slightly dazed Merlin up to Arthur.

"Nothing's broken, right, Merlin?" Arthur asked the little falcon gently as he shifted it to the crook of his arm. Merlin chirruped back, shook his head then looked up at his prince before turning his gaze on their friend.

"I'm not about to forget the victor in our tournament, Merlin." Arthur turned to grin at Lancelot. "Well done… Sir Lancelot."

The dark-haired man blushed with the sudden attention of the royal crowd, but he was also a bit shy with the praise. "Sire, really… Perhaps it wasn't a fair contest when there was that sorcerer—"

The Merlin screeched at him, making Arthur laugh. "I believe Merlin here wants you to shut up and just accept the well earned recognition."

"But Merlin—I couldn't have handled the sorcerer without your—" The raptor chirruped decisively and glared at Lancelot, making him forget his words.

"Let it go, Lancelot." Arthur stroked his falcon on its head, "Yes, Merlin did very well indeed to distract the sorcerer. But it was your sword that found his heart."

Uther could only raise an eyebrow at his son for the exchange between the two young men and the falcon. "He can't actually speak, can he, Arthur?"

"No, of course he can't speak. He's a falcon." Arthur gave his father a suspicious look. Merlin chirruped at him again. "We'll ask—"

"I'm quite all right, Sire, Merlin." Sir Caradoc wheezed a bit as he was helped towards the audience stands. "Just had the wind knocked out of me, that's all. I'm barely bruised."

Uther looked from Arthur to his knights. Arthur just sighed as he rolled his eyes. "It's just—very obvious what he's trying to say, father. After all, he is rather simple."

The Merlin screeched at Arthur for that, and even Uther could concede that he understood the bird was expressing his displeasure at being insulted. Arthur chuckled as he cocked his head towards his knights and they started to follow him, Morgana, Lancelot and Merlin off the tournament grounds.

Uther wasn't inclined to follow just yet. Instead, he strode towards the archery target with the dagger still embedded in it. Gaius approached him as he pulled the dagger out of the target. "Sire?"

"Hmm?"

"Is something the matter? Do you believe the dagger to be poisoned?" Gaius asked him curiously.

Uther looked at the dagger and carefully offered it to Gaius. "We probably should have this checked." But he said little else.

* * *

A couple of days later, Arthur and Merlin were looking into the box which his father's manservant delivered to his chambers. Merlin chirruped questioningly from where he sat on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur could only shrug as he picked up the wicked looking blades attached to the leather straps. "It looks like—" The prince eyed his Merlin's talons from the corner of his eye, "something which could be strapped to your claws."

Arthur winced as Merlin screeched in his ear. "Ow! Merlin, you don't have to scream at this proximity. And 'yes' you do enough damage with your talons as they currently are.

"But I have a feeling that my father would like me to train you as a weapon."

The raptor chirruped with a tone of hurt displeasure. "Hey, Gaius and Geoffrey are trying their best with their research, but it wouldn't be too bad to make the best out of a horrible situation, right?"

The little Merlin glared at him. Arthur just smirked back as he lifted the gift from his father out of the box. It was rather a relief to, for once, have his father's amusement and approval with regards to Merlin.

~end~

* * *

Thanks for reading.  
Cheers, firewolf


	4. Finally Finding His Wings

DISCLAIMER: The characters in Merlin (BBC) belong to Shine Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.  
I'm just borrowing them for a while to spin a tale

* * *

**Finally Finding His Fee--Wings**  
By firewolf  
November 2009

As concerned as he was for his transformed manservant, Arthur knew better than to keep Merlin with him all day long. He didn't fancy Merlin listing over to snore in his ear during a council meeting or worse toppling off his shoulder. Really, Merlin was a useless bird. Arthur would have sworn birds could comfortably and securely sleep on a perch without danger of falling off said perch.

It had taken them ages to find a safe, secure, and shred proof surface for Merlin to rest on at night. The cushion they finally settled on was perhaps a lot harder than any decent cushion should be but once Arthur pounded a deep enough depression in its centre, Merlin could comfortably settle his feet into it and rest without worry of falling over on his side or beak. Whatever it was that Merlin tried to convey with his chirruping for the fuss Arthur paid over his sleeping arrangements, Arthur thought he managed to be firm that a falcon should not sleep on its back, sprawled over a bed with wings askew and extended, whether or not this was apparently how human-Merlin slept.

However, Arthur could hardly carry Merlin's 'bed' with him to meetings just because he wanted his falc—manservant nearby and in attendance. It was at times like that when Arthur really missed having human-Merlin around. At least then, Merlin could keep busy serving Arthur snacks and drinks to stay awake. So Arthur would reluctantly leave Merlin with either Morgana or his Knights when he was attending to his long neglected duties as the crowned prince. Unfortunately, Arthur was also finding himself once again unaccountably jealous of the time others would spend with his Merlin when he couldn't have him.

Arthur really didn't mind very much when Merlin spent time with his Knights. This was usually appreciated by the men too since it often meant there'd be an audience of ladies who'd turn up to keep Merlin company while the men trained and showed off for them. The Knights and ladies had very readily taken to having Merlin as a vehicle for flirting and Arthur didn't interfere since he could see that Merlin was having a great deal of fun too as a go-between. And most importantly, they would always ask Arthur's permission before making a request of Merlin that might require significant effort from him. (Unstated in the asking of course was also the promise that his falc—manservant wouldn't be injured if they had him flying for them. Even after all these months, the little falcon's landings were still utter rubbish making Arthur wonder if it was possible to ever get Merlin over his often paralysing fear of heights.)

In truth, it was also quite entertaining to watch the Knights or the Court Ladies with Merlin, especially when they were describing their love to him. To make himself understood, Merlin often used his wings like hands and employed his whole skinny falcon body in a way that made him astoundingly understandable to the humans talking to him; short, tall, skinny, fat, coy, shy, fierce, proud... Merlin had a very extensive range of expressions and impressions. The ladies were very appreciative and amused with Merlin's entertaining and often exaggerated pantomime of their various suitors. It certainly set a few of the Knights thinking and ribbing each other too when they noticed Merlin's performance as he portrayed each them. At the least, he got Sir Elyan more conscious about using a handkerchief and to stop picking his nose in public.

According to a naughtily giggling Morgana, the tiny falcon even had a sly gesture with the Knights which apparently had all of the men giving him a mass double take the first time he used it. Arthur wasn't quite sure he believed a bird had the muscles or dexterity necessary in its wings to make a gesture of cupping a pair of exaggeratingly large breasts.

Unfortunately, leaving the little falcon with his Knights always meant his Merlin would end the day in Lancelot's company. And this often led to Arthur not being able to find either of them later in the afternoon since Gaius regularly conscripted them to gallivant in the forest outside the castle to harvest herbs for him.

When Merlin was human, Arthur never begrudged him the time away from his side for this duty. And really, he knew he hadn't any place to object to the kind assistance Lancelot offered Gaius while Merlin was so handicapped. But Arthur didn't like the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he looked out of his window on these evenings to see Lancelot returning to the castle and 'chatting' so amicably with his Merlin on his shoulder. Arthur would admit to himself then that in all these months he still never really got over the fact Merlin had been friends with the commoner-Knight first.

On the other hand, when he left Merlin with Morgana, it felt seemingly worse since it meant his falcon could very often be found riding on her maid servant's shoulder or in the crook of her arm as Guinevere moved around the castle to complete her chores. And this would remind Arthur of the many rumours which abounded in the castle regarding their closeness, and as a courting couple.

Inadvertently, these kinds of days would have Merlin returned to a rather grumpy and short tempered Prince. And since Merlin couldn't speak and attempt to banter Arthur out of his bad mood, he'd go quiet instead which would make Arthur feel even worse and guilty for his bad humour. On those nights when they'd settle in to sleep, Arthur would find himself staring at his little Merlin on his cushion by the fireplace and really think about how much he missed human-Merlin.

* * *

After three months of struggle (though thankfully with the infinite patience and assistance of Arthur, his Knights, and the Court ladies) Merlin finally had enough of his flying and landing problems. As annoyed and upset as he was with the Dragon, the beast was the only sentient flying creature he knew and Merlin desperately needed guidance.

However, Merlin hadn't visited or spoken to the dragon since he stormed out of the cave to try and save his mother and later Gaius, so he wasn't exactly sure of the reception he'd receive if he suddenly appeared again. In any case, Merlin knew enough not to approach empty handed. So late one night after he was sure Arthur was fast asleep and wouldn't miss him, Merlin sneaked away to visit the Dragon.

He made a detour to the kitchens first to pilfer a brace of left over roast geese from the last feast, nimbly slipped past the bored guards and hopped down the stairs into the dragon's lair with his stash of food. As he neared the entrance to the cave, Merlin carefully warmed the cooked birds. And having smelt the approaching meal, the dragon was already settled on his rocky perch when Merlin sent a bird flying out of the cave mouth straight into its jaws.

After the fourth and last bird was crunched up and swallowed, the dragon finally deigned to speak. "Very well, young Warlock, we'll hold a truce. What did you want to ask?"

Merlin let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding for the relief that the dragon was willing to accept his olive brunch. They had their differences, But Merlin realised that they still had a common goal in seeing Arthur eventually crowned and guided to be a better King than his father.

If the Dragon was still upset with Merlin, he didn't show it when Merlin stepped onto the ledge. In all honesty, it wasn't able to display even a smidgen of bad temper at the sight of him. It had never occurred to Merlin that the Dragon didn't know how the Gods of the Old Religion had punished him. And he would probably have enjoyed the sight of the dragon rendered completely speechless if the great lizard hadn't practically collapsed on its side to roar with laughter over his unfortunate situation.

"How—how small you are for such a great destiny' I—I recall saying—saying to you when we first met." Merlin steamed with annoyance as he could observe the Dragon desperately trying to be solemn and serious and failing to. "And now—now you've—you've returned even—even *smaller*."

In hind sight, Merlin supposed he shouldn't have started hopping up and down on the ledge and screeching at the Dragon, because it took a very long time for the laughing lizard to get himself under control to speak to him. It also made Merlin think quite sourly that the Dragon had far too many teeth. Eventually though, the Dragon finally managed to calm down to listen to the transformed sorcerer, so Merlin chirruped his question timidly, thankful that the Dragon could still understand him despite his complete change of specie.

"Yes, young warlock. I can still see that your destiny is still entwined with Arthur. Though perhaps—perhaps your part in it isn't— isn't as *large* anymore."

Merlin glared at the grinning dragon. Still, an amused dragon was better than an angry lizard. So since it was obviously in a good mood, Merlin made his request of this only flying creature he knew.

* * *

It took a while, but Lancelot eventually understood his birdie-friend's request to procure him a block of wood. A task which was not too difficult given the entire forest they could roam in when gathering Gaius' herbs.

Once back in Merlin's old room at Gaius' quarters, the newly minted Knight watched with fascination and awe as his friend worked his magic on the block of wood. The falcon's brown eyes had glowed molten while gold shards of light carefully burned and carved into the wood, causing a fantastic creature to slowly take form. Lancelot stared at the finished wooden carving. And while he couldn't have known it, Merlin had really out done himself in this exquisite arm-length replica of the dragon under the castle.

"Do I want to know?" Lancelot asked cautiously. Merlin shook his head at his friend before looking quite pleadingly up at him. Willing the man to trust him and not ask too many questions.

Lancelot let out a sigh. "Oookaay—I suppose you're offering me the opportunity to claim plausible deniability?" Merlin bobbed his head with an encouraging chirrup, and turned away for a moment to use his wings to brush stray wood chips off his work of art.

Lancelot gave him a suspicious look. "This won't be for something the Prince would get angry about, would it?" The Merlin rolled its eyes as it raised a wing to wave it pointedly at the wood chips that was scattered around the bed, then gave Lancelot a hurt and affronted look.

A snort of laughter escaped the Knight's lips before he could control it as he took in the evidence of Merlin's recent use of magic. "Point taken.

"You are going to tell the Prince eventually, right? About the magic, I mean?"

The Merlin hopped up and down on the bed while it flapped its wings and screeched at him, before folding its wings again and giving him a troubled expression. Lancelot was hard pushed not to burst out laughing at his little friend's antics. Others who watched how the Merlin communicated with Arthur and his Knights were often astounded by the ease and understanding among them. While Merlin couldn't speak in words, it was still rather obvious he was saying something to the effect of: "Of course I'll eventually tell him. If you've not noticed, I'm in a sort of difficult state at a moment which makes it impossible to carry out a conversation," and "I hope he understands and accepts me."

"He'll be okay about you, Merlin." Lancelot reached over to boldly scratch the little falcon on the head the way he'd seen Arthur do it.

Merlin chirruped timidly at him, accepting the touch but not moving into it the way he'd respond to Arthur. Lancelot just grinned and chalked this up as one more point he and the Knights were secretly tallying up for their betting pool on their bewildered prince and his oblivious manservant; the pool for when the two would finally declare their love for each other was growing into a tidy little sum.

The Knights swore him to secrecy about the list when he joined their ranks. And they claimed that it was growing without pause even after Merlin was turned into a falcon. Having been at court for just slightly over a month now, Lancelot readily believed them.

* * *

The next time Lancelot brought Merlin out to the forest to harvest herbs for Gaius they hid the wooden carving and a book of herbs in their basket. So while Lancelot flipped through the book and attempted to find the herbs for Gaius on his own, Merlin was left high up on the branch of a tree with only his wooden carving for company; or so Lancelot had thought.

Once Lancelot had moved out of sight, Merlin focussed all his attention on his replica of the Dragon. For the past few months, Merlin had quite comfortably used his magic around court in a way he'd never have dared to had he been human. Stopping time wasn't much good to him in helping him learn to land. But it had been excellent when Merlin used it against Arthur's would-be-assassin during the last tournament. No one had commented on the little falcon's speed and skill in catching the dagger, nor did anyone question his quick, darting attacks upon the sorcerer which prevented him from using magic.

Drawing and breathing life into wood, however, was going to be a challenge. Still, despite what Gaius had said to protect him, Merlin really did have his own as well as Nimueh's power coursing through his tiny body.

'Power over life and death…' Nimueh had spoken to him about it as if it was something grand and gifted by the Gods of the Old Religion. Months wiser and provided more time to reflect on his powers, Merlin had come to realise he already long had this power in his hands. A telling demonstration of this was his success in turning a stone dog into living breathing flesh and blood and later returning it to stone. That day, he had created life and taken it away again. But because of all the excitement over Valiant and the snakes in his shield, Merlin had never even stopped to consider the implications of what he had accomplished.

This bit of magic expanded on the wooden replica of the Dragon, however, was significantly different. And since he wasn't creating life but drawing the conscious soul and existence of another into his creation, the spell was thankfully easier to cast and control. Plus, animating and transforming wood to flesh was much easier than manipulating stubborn stone.

The miniature dragon let out a full body shudder before it carefully extended its wings and limbs to examine itself. "Nicely done, young Merlin. I could actually believe I'm still in my own body. You have me accurately duplicated right down to the last scale.

"But why so small?"

The Merlin chirruped at the Dragon with an annoyed note making it chuckle at him in understanding. "Oh, very well. I suppose it is prudent to stay small and hope to be mistaken for a bird."

Merlin bobbed his head at the Dragon agreeably. "All right then, young warlock. As agreed for the gift of these brief moments of freedom, we begin your first *real* flying lesson."

* * *

On this first day that Gaius finally allowed Arthur to go out on a hunt with his knights, Arthur had to admit to being very disappointed with his falcon. He had rather hoped that he could have trained and taught Merlin how to hunt and catch prey by then, but with the little falcon still being rubbish at landings when he had to fly at any significant height, Arthur hadn't dared risk the tiny bird. (And really, how ever much he tried to feed and stuff the little bird with good cuts of meat during meals, Arthur couldn't understand why Merlin was still so small and scrawny. Granted that for such a tiny bird, Merlin was still rather strong and pretty sturdy; Arthur and his Knights could believe it with the way he could knock them off their feet during the many failed flying and landing lessons they'd conduct without injury to himself.)

At the least, the falcon made less noise on a hunt than human-Merlin, and he quite happily sat on the travel packs of the pack horse to follow the hunting party. Much to the Knights' and Arthur's amusement, they learned that if they gave Merlin the reins, he could also easily steer the pack horse to follow them at a distance, even if it did take the animal a little while to get use to being guided by its reins without a human nearby.

Finally out on a hunt again and freed of the castle, Arthur was probably quite a bit more eager than he cared to admit. While he'd taken up his princely duties in the castle a couple of weeks earlier, Gaius still hadn't allowed him to return to his physical activities of training the knights and hunting. So Arthur had been going completely stir-crazy and impatient to get out. However, he probably should have been a little more prudent and more willing to listen to his knights.

"Er—Sire? Perhaps we had better move further down to cross the river." Sir Leon called out cautiously as he saw the Prince approach the wooden log that joined the two banks.

"Nonsense, we have a ready bridge here." Arthur waved to the log as he started to walk across.

"Sire!" Lancelot called out hastily. "I believe Sir Leon was just expressing caution. I had used this bridge myself over a month back, and I didn't think it was very sound then. In the intervening time…"

Merlin also called out to him worriedly as he reined in the pack horse near the bridge. The horse refused to even approach.

"You've become a bunch of old women." Arthur called back as he swiftly moved to the centre of the bridge and stamped a foot on it. "See? It's perfectl—"

The Knights and falcon cried out in alarm as the log gave way under Arthur without even the decency of releasing a loud crack. Before Arthur realised what was happening he was sucked down by the swift flowing river, and the shouts and cries of his knights sounded very far away from him.

Merlin, however… Arthur wondered why he could hear his Merlin screeching so clearly when he was still underwater and struggling to reach the surface. He felt more than heard a huge disturbance slightly behind him and suddenly Arthur felt claws clutching his collar and shortly his head broke the surface.

"Me—Mer—Merlin?" Arthur coughed as he tried to clear his lungs while his falcon flapped furiously in the attempt to keep his head above the water. Merlin screeched back, and it took Arthur a moment to regain his senses to realise that the falcon was desperately trying to drag him towards the river bank where his Knights were shouting to them and running alongside to keep pace with their position.

It was a terrifying ten minutes as both Arthur and his bird seeming sank under the waters a couple of times in the struggle to reach the river bank, but Merlin determinedly flapped and pulled and eventually dragged his Prince within reach of the rope that his Knights repeatedly tossed out to them. With hands firmly clutching the rope which helped him kick his legs in the right direction and also reeled him in, and a falcon at his back lending its assistance, Arthur finally came close enough to the river bank for his knights to grab him by the arms and pull him out.

Back on shore, Arthur was quickly stripped of his wet clothes, wrapped up in the cloaks of his knights and seated on a log while one of them started a fire nearby to get him warm again. "Merlin?" His falcon was his first thought as Arthur realised he'd lost track of the little bird when he had been stripped of his jacket.

"He's right here, Sire. He's okay." Lancelot brought the shivering bird to him wrapped up in another cloak.

Panting a little from fright and his exertions, Arthur patted dry the tiny falcon and sat him on the log beside him. "Thank you, Merlin. But are you really, okay?"

The tiny falcon shook off the cloak to look up at his prince and chirruped at him insistently. Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the tiny bird's rather clear expression. "I'm all right, Merlin. Really, stop being such a girl about the whole thing."

The Merlin stared intently at Arthur for a moment before giving him a decisive nod and a last chirrup, and then darted in to swat Arthur upside the head with a wing. More shocked than hurt, Arthur stared at his Merlin. "Hey! What was that for?"

The falcon started hopping up and down on the log and screeching at him. Around him, the Knights could barely keep a straight face at the antics of the tiny bird. While Arthur momentarily couldn't help having his head follow the up and down movement of his falcon.

Realising what he was doing, Arthur shook his head and peered down at the little bird. "Merlin, you do know l really don't understand what it is you're screaming at me about?"

A guffaw from Sir Leon brought Arthur's attention to him. "Well, Sire." The man was very carefully polite and diplomatic with his words. "Earlier, we were talking about not trusting that bridge. Perhaps, he's just expressing his anger for the scare you just gave all of us." The Merlin shook its feathers out and gave Sir Leon a sharp nod and a chirp as if in agreement.

"Well—?" Arthur squirmed guiltily in the warm cloaks as he looked up at his Knights who were valiantly trying to keep a straight face. "We wouldn't have known for sure if I hadn't tried it—"

It happened so fast, Arthur at first wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of blue at the Merlin's mouth. "Did—did you just stick out your tongue at me?"

The Merlin turned around and pointedly showed Arthur his back and wiggled his tail feathers at him. "Now see here, Merlin! Bird or not you're not supposed to be disrespectful to me!" Arthur stared at his falcon in outrage. The falcon just looked over a shoulder to give Arthur an evil eye and went back to turning its nose—beak away from him.

That was the last straw for the Knights of Camelot. No one would ever admit to having started it, but before another minute passed all the Knights were slapping their knees and laughing loud enough to have the sound boom through the forest. (In effect, completely destroying any hope of a decent hunt after this; which Arthur would later swear was Merlin's fault again, and that even as a falcon his manservant was still mucking up his hunt. But that's a debate for another time.)

Arthur huffed in mock exasperation at his Knights, but he was sorry and embarrassed for the fright he gave them and could appreciate the humour of the current situation. However, while he knew his Knights would forgive him, he still had a very angry falcon to make amends to. Fortunately, the Prince had a trick or two he had learnt about his Merlin since his transformation.

Arthur wiggled an arm free of the cloaks and reached over to stroke a finger over Merlin's head to gently scratch him in a way he knew he'd get his little falcon humming in appreciation. Lancelot bit his lip as he exchange looks with the other knights while they watched Merlin's tensed little body practically melt under the Prince's caresses and begin pushing against his hand.

"Okay, I'll admit I was—a little over eager. Is that good enough?" Arthur asked as the falcon turned around to face him again. It let out a little huff, but bobbed its head before staring up at his Prince.

"And—that really was *impressive*, Merlin" Arthur told him with a touch of astonishment. "Now that I think about it, you took to the air and dived into the waters to catch me by my jacket's collar." Looking towards Lancelot, Arthur felt something twist in his stomach as he set eyes on his newest Knight. "Did *you* teach him how to do that?"

"What? Me?" Lancelot shook his hands in front of him in denial. "No, not at all, I mean—'yes' either Guinevere or I would bring Merlin out to the woods nearly every day, but we always left him up a tree while we'd look for Gaius' herbs or Morgana's flowers."

The knot in Arthur's stomach eased as he looked at his falcon again. "So you've just been practicing on your own?"

The Merlin shifted from foot to foot in a manner Arthur would have called shy and embarrassed if it was done by a human child. "I thought we were being supportive?" Merlin bobbed his head and extended a wing to tap Arthur's arm as he chirruped at him.

"Well, maybe he just wanted to practise in private… somewhere where there isn't an audience." Lancelot suggest to Arthur as they all looked at the tiny falcon. "You know— it could just be performance anxiety?"

The falcon's jaw dropped as it turned to gape at Lancelot. And the dark haired Knight realised then what he had just said. Again, no one quite knew who started it, but Arthur and his fellow Knights were very quickly roaring with laughter while it looked like the Merlin was about to hyperventilate.

"Er—Merlin? You know I didn't mean 'that', don't you?" Lancelot started backing away nervously. "Not that I'm trying to suggest anything. And—anyway it's not as if you're looking to engage in *that* kind of activity any time soon when you're in this state, right?"

The Merlin screeched as he launched himself off the log at the fleeing man.

* * *

Uther sighed as he pointed his horse and attending Knights towards the sound of laughter again. He knew Arthur was out hunting, but he thought his son and Knights knew better than to make a lot of noise and chase away all the game in the area. (And he could also have sworn that Arthur's hunting party was leagues away where they weren't in danger of crossing paths.)

When he came upon his son's party though, Uther wasn't sure of what to think as he and his Knights found themselves watching a scene where a tiny falcon was screeching and diving at a hapless Knight (the new one, Lancelot wasn't it?) and swatting him over the head with his wings as the man cried out his apologies. While a little distance away, Arthur and his knights were sitting or standing around a fire and roaring with laughter.

Uther opened his mouth to call down to his son and his party, but thought better of it. He didn't think he was *that* curious to find out what had just happened. Still… Uther turned to look at the Knights attending him and found that a few of them were practically turning purple while the others were trying valiantly to softly cough in their gloves.

Uther sighed. "All right, let's ride a bit further away so Arthur and his party won't hear us then you can go right ahead."

The King smiled indulgently at his Knights as they surrounded him with laughter during the ride back to Camelot. When he thought of it, it was quite true that his son's falc—manservant had created quite a challenge in Court for the Knights and the guards to maintain their dignity in not giggling and laughing out loud at his antics. As King though, Uther quite proudly asserted his superiority over everyone else with his self control. He'd laugh when he was back in the privacy of his Chambers.

If the King appeared to be spurring his horse a little bit faster than usual, his attending Knights were polite enough not to mention it.

~end~

* * *

Thanks for reading. I hope Merlin!Merlin's adventures are still amusing to the readers.  
Cheers, firewolf


	5. The Escalating Challenge to Composure

DISCLAIMER: The characters in Merlin (BBC) belong to Shine Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.  
I'm just borrowing them for a while to spin a tale

* * *

**The Escalating Challenge to Composure**  
By firewolf  
April 2010

It was a long time coming, and everyone was relieved when Merlin finally learnt how to land safely... most of the time anyway. He'd still occasionally have his lapses of paralysing fear regarding his distance above the ground.

Fortunately, these occurred when he'd either be in the company of the 'little' great dragon, who'd kindly catch Merlin before he went splat on the forest floor; or he'd be in the presence of the guards and Knights of Camelot, who did likewise in saving the little Merlin from becoming a smear on unyielding stone or the hard packed earth which surrounded the castle. (The loyal men rather thought their prince would be quite furious with them if the little raptor came to any harm if they were nearby and did not offer assistance.)

Unfortunately, seeing as how there were usually several able bodied men about, but only one tiny bird, it often came to be a rather embarrassing fiasco since all eyes would be focussed upwards upon the falling Merlin rather than their surroundings. The King already lost count of the instances he'd heard shouts of alarm followed by a series of loud crashes and looked out from his office window to find several piles of groaning Knights and guards scattered across the grounds; though fortunately (for Merlin) with a stunned and shaky falcon held safely aloft in the hands of at least one of the felled men.

With the number of times this had happened, Uther was initially disappointed that the guards and Knights hadn't learnt their lesson to keep an eye out for their comrades' efforts too. That is, until the King took a step back and looked upon the greater picture, where the court ladies showed remarkable swiftness in fluttering onto the field to coo and fuss over their chosen gallantly injured man. It made Uther begin to wonder if the men were *staging* a few of these 'rescues' to attract the sympathy and attention of the ladies.

To be honest about it though, it really never got old. (The castle steward hoped that age and kingship wasn't starting to be too stressful for his lord. But he just couldn't understand why King Uther had asked for and started keeping a soft downy cushion *beside* the chair in his office rather than on it.)

* * *

Arthur's return to all his regular duties and activities meant he did not have much personal time to train Merlin anymore. And this unfortunately gave rise to an unexpected problem. After all, a falcon in the wild had much of its thoughts focused on food and the hunting of it to provide for itself; protecting its territory from invaders; or mating. Being very well fed by Arthur, Merlin was truly a pampered bird. (Arthur was leery of this fact since Merlin was still a very skinny little bird. So much so the prince insisted on personally hand feeding his Merlin at least three times a day to make sure the bird got the proper amount of nutrition. The Prince wasn't to know, however, that Merlin had taken to surreptitiously hiding the extra food with magic, then sharing the accumulated bounty with the delighted Dragon out in the woods.) So, with all his needs for survival taken care of, in addition to a prince having returned to his duties together with the curtailed flying practices and lessons, it left Merlin as a very bored little raptor.

For the sake of his sanity, Gaius and Arthur eventually allowed Merlin to reclaim some of his former chores. And happily, since he demonstrated uncommon speed and dependability in fetch and carry tasks, the castle was soon to be accustomed to the sight of a little Merlin winging through the corridors with scrolls or baskets of goods carried securely in its claws.

* * *

Merlin's screech announced his impending arrival at the window sill of the council room. Uther looked up, from the papers he had spread out in preparation of a meeting, in time to watch the little raptor land neatly on the window sill with a scroll clutched in a claw.

"Ah, Merlin. You have a message for me from Gaius?"

The bird chirruped and shook its head at the King. "Arthur, then?" Merlin bobbed his head with a whistled assent.

"Whatever could be the matter?" Uther beckoned the bird to approach. "We are meeting for lunch today. We could talk then." The bird shook his head with a low chirp of negativity as it landed on the table, making the King raise an eyebrow at him.

"So Arthur's not available for lunch?" Uther asked with some disappointment to the bird's whistle of assent and a bob of its head. "But why not? What's happened today?"

The Merlin chirruped at the King and waved the scroll at him with a leg while it precariously balanced on the other with the help of its spread wings. Uther closed his eyes for a second before wordlessly taking the scroll from the bird. It was just uncanny how, just like Arthur and most of the Knights, even *he* was now carrying out almost whole conversations with Merlin when he couldn't speak. And for that while, as he reflected on this remarkable exchange, Uther found that he wasn't able to pay very much attention to Arthur's message.

A cautious questioning chirrup broke him from his reverie to look up at the patiently waiting Merlin. "Oh! Yes, you may leave. I have no need for you to carry back a message."

The bird whistled questioningly again and pointed his beak at the scroll, prompting Uther to look down for a quick scan of the contents." I see, Arthur's expecting a reply, is it?"

Merlin chirruped and bobbed his head at the King. And Uther found himself fighting to keep his stern expression as he read Arthur's letter. "Well, I see nothing wrong with Arthur's judgement. You can tell—"

The bird's pointed whistle reminded Uther of the situation again, and the King smoothly reached for a piece of parchment to begin scribbling his reply. He was determined to keep his composure even if it killed him.

Rolling up the finished scroll into a tight bundle which the Merlin could get a claw around, Uther waved the bird off. "I'll see Arthur this evening then." He glanced out the window remembering then that they were in the council meeting rooms rather than his usual office which was on a lower floor. And a bout of mischief made the King give the bird a parting bid of caution.

"Be careful, boy. We are up three times higher than my usual window." A huge exaggeration, but Uther wondered if the boy—bird would notice. The Merlin apparently didn't since it quite visibly froze at the edge of the window sill with his words.

Uther watched with some amusement as the bird cautiously poked a head out and looked down. The King hadn't believed his son the first time he was told that his manservant was afraid of heights, but Uther could see this quite clearly now with the way the raptor quickly retracted its head and almost fell backwards off the sill. However, before Uther could guiltily suggest he open the door for the bird to take the stairs, Merlin determinedly shook out his feathers and leaped out the window.

His terrified scream all the way down, however, had Uther rush to the window to check that someone had noticed the bird's distress and was posed to catch him. And yes, there were quite a lot of men out in the courtyard this afternoon, including Arthur and his knights.

Even situated from as high up the castle as he was, Uther could hear the cries of alarm and the bone jarring crashes as guards and knights collided in their efforts to get into position to catch the falling bird. Predictably, the grounds were eventually covered by scattered piles of groaning men which were in turn surrounded by crowds of cooing ladies; while Arthur adroitly plucked his Merlin from the hands that caught him and attentively checked the shivering and shaken bird.

Once Uther was assured Merlin was not hurt, he rather quickly ducked back into the room before his son could think to throw an accusing glance up his way. Still, He couldn't avoid Gaius's disapproving eyebrow that evening or his son and ward's suspicious looks during dinner, but that was another story.

* * *

Shortly after the 'incident' in the courtyard, the council members were to arrive at and wonder why their meeting room was locked. However, since they could hear thumping from beyond the door they thought there were perhaps carpenters inside working on repairing some furniture.

They couldn't be blamed for not recognising the sound of a fist pounding a table, and of course the door and walls were too thick for them to hear the King's muffled laughter against his arm. Nor did they later question the sudden proliferation of cushions in the room. However, they did notice though never asked why their King preferred to lean against his cushion rather than sit on it.

Then again, they guessed the King was probably more concerned about his back than his seat. It didn't explain though, why Uther's cushion was more often found on the table rather than on his chair

~end~

* * *

Thanks for reading. Hope Merlin!Merlin's adventures are still a fun read.

Cheers, firewolf


	6. Collisions and Consequences

DISCLAIMER: The characters in Merlin (BBC) belong to Shine Television and the BBC, etc., i.e., not me.  
I'm just borrowing them for a while to spin a tale

* * *

**Collisions and Consequences**  
By firewolf  
May 2010

After the embarrassing— 'incident' in the courtyard, which landed a quarter of Camelot's fighting force in the infirmary, Merlin's flying lessons resumed. Arthur decided it prudent that he concentrated on intensively training Merlin's fear of heights out of him before more repeats of 'catastrophic events of mass injury' occurred. While they were at it, Arthur also thought to teach Merlin how to hunt.

The ladies and knights were certainly enthusiastic about helping out after the almost three weeks break from Merlin-assisted-flirting. The ladies were kind enough to watch over Merlin on the various window sills and give him encouragement, while the knights threw objects in the air at various speeds for Merlin to catch in midflight and return to the window sill of the lady or maid calling to him. Occasionally, a lady might throw an object too and Merlin would catch it and fly down towards a knight to deliver it. And Merlin did eventually stop knocking the knights off their feet during this delivery.

Unsurprisingly, it was Lancelot who worked out that they just needed to raise a gauntleted hand over their head to give Merlin a small and high perch he could focus on to land rather than bring his attention to the ground rushing up at him. The brilliant smile the commoner knight bestowed up to Gwen, who was the one who threw the token on that first success, did much to alleviate the twist in Arthur's gut. It also helped that after delivering the token Merlin had launched himself off Lancelot's hand to land on Arthur's immediately offered arm to chirrup and chatter at him excitedly with this triumph.

Behind them, the knights and guards breathed a sigh of relief for finally discovering a solution to Merlin's landing problems which was going to hopefully save them all from further bruises. _(Even if the ladies were always suitably impressed with their gallantly received injuries, it was a bit too painful to make the whole endeavour a regular staple of their duties. Also, this incident let the knights chalk up five more points on their tally board on the oblivious 'couple'._

_1) Confirmation that their prince was jealous of Merlin's interaction with Gwen;_  
_2) Confirmation that their prince was also jealous of Merlin's interaction with Lancelot;_  
_3) That their Prince was displaying relief to finally realise Gwen and Lancelot were a courting couple and had no interest in Merlin except as a friend;_  
_4) That Merlin would go straight to Arthur to share his happy triumph; and_  
_5) That Arthur looked especially pleased when Merlin immediately went to him to boast of his success.)_

However, Uther rather quietly and guiltily mourned Merlin's success. And this was most assuredly because it effectively ended the almost twice weekly (and very humorous) shouting and mass collisions in the courtyard. Now the men knew to stand like a field of saluting soldiers with a gauntleted fist raised, giving the falling bird a host of perches to choose from.

In spite of successful mastering this lesson, not wanting to test providence Merlin still tried as much as possible to avoid flying when he was outside the walls of the castle. Instead, he'd take the internal route and the stairs when on his courier duties for Gaius or the Prince. Merlin was usually careful and as such a tiny bird he really was quite nimble along the sometimes very narrow corridors. However, Gaius, and Arthur were leery that he'd be able to avoid all collisions forever within the confines of the castle. And unfortunately, that spectacular collision in a corridor which they were all expecting was to eventually occur. Also most alarmingly for all concerned, the King was to regret wistfully missing having bird and man collisions occurring around his Court.

* * *

Uther groaned as he eased out of the comfortable darkness surrounding him to find himself in his bed and Gaius hovering. He blinked at the concerned look his old friend was giving him as he tried to remember what had happened earlier to have landed him back in his Royal suites.

"Was I thrown from my horse?" He asked warily as he allowed Gaius to help him sit up so that he could take a sip of water. His whole body felt like he'd landed with a hard impact upon his back.

"You— really— don't remember?"

Uther frowned as he tried to piece together what he last remembered while he absently rubbed a bruised spot in the centre of his chest. Uther recalled rounding the corner of a passage while talking to Geoffrey and— he had heard Leon's shout of "Watch out for the— " mingled with a terrified screech just as a small but very solid force hit him in the chest, knocked him off his feet and smashed him back against a wall. Leon's rather defeated voice saying the word "King" lingered in his mind before he blacked out.

"Merlin collided with me in the corridor?"

"Err— " Gaius's expression was so filled with chagrin and worry, Uther couldn't help himself; he grabbed a pillow and started laughing into its soft surface.

"Are you all right, Sire?"

Uther had tears of laughter in his eyes as he gazed up at his old friend. "Oh God! The poor bird must have been terrified!"

Gaius let a wry grin twitch on his lips. "Well, he was wailing quite loudly on Arthur's arm when I arrive at the corridor."

"Oh, so Arthur saw it all, did he?" Uther raised an eyebrow at Gaius before sweeping his eyes around the empty room.

"He was first on the scene, Sire."

"But he let Leon tend to me."

"Er— Sire?" Gaius gave him a guarded look.

"Come off it, old man. You're not going to convince me that my son checked on me first before his Merlin."

"Well, I heard that he did— hesitate?"

"Yes, then he picked up his bir— manservant off my chest and looked him over first while leaving my first knight to tend to me." Uther shook his head with a genuine smile still on his face. "Oh— fair is fair all around, Gaius. I had this coming after what I caused when I unnerved the poor bird— boy a couple of weeks back."

"Sire, I hardly think Merlin wou— "

"What? Oh, no, no. I'd never believe the boy has single a malicious bone in his body. I meant this accident was fate's way of punishing me for— 'helping' Merlin to land a quarter of my fighting force in the infirmary."

"And was that worth it?" Gaius gave him a disapproving lifted eyebrow.

"Oh, indubitably, old man, indubitably!" Uther laughed again as he clapped his hands together as if pantomiming guards and knights colliding. "I've always seen the aftermath. This was the first time I witnessed it as a live 'performance'."

"You— really aren't upset about your son and Merlin?"

Uther gave Gaius a wistful look. "I would be a hypocrite if I did.

"Gaius— I would have acknowledged you if you had let me."

"And I loved Ygraine too much to embarrass her before the Court when all thought you had eyes only for your fiancé." Gaius lifted his chin firmly.

"Would it have been so terrible if it had been us three?"

"It was a different age, Sire." Gaius petted his shoulder kindly. "Your knights were not as open minded and accepting as Arthur's. And—

"Arthur's situation is not the same. He has yet to express any interest in a lady, to date."

"Yes— with his manservant, however...

"Tell me, Gaius. Were we ever that stubborn or oblivious when we were their age?"

Gaius let out a bark of laughter. "The way Ygraine described it the afternoon she spent profusely apologising to me after you proposed, we drove her and Nimueh up the wall with frustration.

"In any case, Arthur's still has the species problem so they still have the luxury of time to figure out what they mean to each other."

"How goes that search? It's been almost half a year since the transformation. It will be winter soon." Uther asked curiously as he lay back on his comfortable pillows. He knew better than to get up while Gaius was in the room with him. Since he blacked out, the King knew it was unlikely for the Physician to let him out of bed till the next day.

Gaius shook his head as he turned away to the table where he laid out his herbs to stir together a concoction for his king. "All paths we've researched lead back to the source of the curse. And neither Arthur nor Merlin wants to consider trusting or petitioning the Gods of the Old Religion to release him from the curse."

"But— Merlin could be a man again if he returned to the Isle of the Blessed, wasn't that what you said?"

"Merlin would prefer to be a bird by your son's side— than a man alone."

Uther eyed his old friend at these words. "Yes— I believe that. Arthur— is lucky to have such uncommon loyalty...

"Speaking of my son— where is he?"

"I believe he's run off with Merlin and some knights to do some hunting."

"Hunting?"

"Yes. From what I could gather in the general chaos surrounding this— incident, Merlin has the idea you'd want to send him to the kitchen." Uther stared at him in incomprehension for a moment before he 'got it'.

"Eat Merlin?" Uther gave Gaius a completely horrified look. "Not only would it be unconscionable, the very idea I'd eat one of my subjects is *revolting*.

"Besides, he's so small and scrawny I'd probably choke on his bones if he was served as a meal."

"A mind filled with fear can be quite irrational." Gaius gave him a wry smile in agreement. "In any case, I understand that as a precaution Arthur and his knights mean to provide you with—alternate meal options."

"Gaius— I'm not an ogre." The King gave him an affronted look.

"Well— they are quite fond of Merlin..." Gaius shrugged. "Though with the way Merlin was wailing when they took off, I'm wondering if they'll manage to catch anything."

* * *

Contrary to Gaius's description of him, Merlin hadn't continued wailing in his terrified misery as Arthur carried him post haste away from Camelot. (They were ostensibly on a hunting trip, but Arthur was more in the mind to just let Merlin be scarce for a while around Camelot and not that he believed his father would eat him.) No, the poor bird was being very quiet and considerate to Arthur and his knights in stifling the sounds of his distress so as not to scare the game away. And it had been a very fruitful excursion so far since they'd picked up a good sized buck and several quail and rabbits. Still, Merlin was a picture of abject misery where he sat on the saddle between Arthur's thighs, with his wings covering his head as he cried softly.

Around them, Arthur's knights valiantly tried to control their smiles and laughter, because— no one seriously believed their King would eat one of his subjects— no, really— they believed it— for the most part... Well— maybe catching a few more quail or rabbits wasn't too bad an idea too. A small group broke off to disappear into the forest from time to time and return with more game tied to their saddles.

Arthur sighed again as he absently scratched Merlin's head comfortingly. "Merlin, really—it isn't that bad. It was an accident. Father, wouldn't hold it against you. Truly." The Merlin drew a wing back to make a gesture of an eviscerating cut across its body.

"You're too melodramatic. I'm telling you, my father's *not* going to hand you over to the kitchens to be carved up for his dinner. Head cook Mary would never do that to you. Besides, you're so small and scrawny you'd hardly make a mouthful, much less a meal."

Merlin raised his head to look back at Arthur and stuck out a tongue at him before hiding his head under his wings again. Arthur didn't take offence but resumed petting Merlin comfortingly while he continued to shiver and shake as if he was 'howling' 'louder' in distress.

"Look, Merlin, we've caught more than enough good plump game which would make better meals than you. If— if you're so afraid of being eaten why don't you contribute to the haul too? Why—I bet father would accept your apology if you personally hunted and caught a couple of— of rabbits for him."

For the first time since they set out, Merlin lifted his head and folded his wings behind his back again. Arthur seized on the thought to continue. "Father's really quite fond of rabbit. So if you present Mary your catch and she cooks up his favourite dish, he'll be sure to forgive you." Merlin gave him a soft and thoughtful chirp.

To one side, however, Gawain blinked as he looked from the brace of rabbits he had hanging on his saddle and back at Merlin; rabbits which were much larger than the scrawny adolescent bird. He wasn't the only knight to make this observation.

"Er, Merlin? You could have a couple of my rabbits." Leon quickly spurred his horse alongside to offer the dead rabbits. "Really, it's no trouble."

Merlin whistled happily and inclined a head at him. But Arthur wouldn't have it. "Oh, come on, Leon. We can be honest here."

Merlin looked back at Arthur attentively. "Merlin is fully capable of hunting his own rabbits."

"Er— Sire." Lancelot rode up on his other side and held up one of his rabbits. "Merlin isn't exactly larger than a rabbit himself. We've all more than enough to share with him."

There were murmurs of assent around them, but Arthur wouldn't be put off. "Tsk, are you all trying to encourage him to be dishonest?" He frowned at his knights in disappointment. "Come on, Merlin may be smaller than a rabbit, but he's also stronger than his namesake.

"You can't have forgotten that he's capable of knocking a full grown man off his feet. So of course he's strong enough to take on a rabbit." At this statement, several knights unconsciously fingered their breast bones as if reliving the memory of being thumped in the chest by the tiny bird.

With the confidence Arthur was expressing in him, Merlin was also standing a bit straighter on the saddle. A fact Arthur was very pleased about. "That's a good lad. So come on, let's find you some rabbits to hunt."

* * *

"Enter." Uther called out to the knock on his door while he sat at his table and to watch and wait for Gaius to prepare and hand him another of his obnoxious concoctions to encourage his bruised body to heal faster. The king looked up with interest to see Sir Leon come into his chambers.

"Excuse me, sire. I was just looking for Gaius."

Uther started to stand in alarm. "Leon, you were on a hunt with my son, weren't you? Was someone injured?"

Leon coughed into his glove. "Erm—there was an injury, m'Lord. And—really it's nothing to laugh at, but we thought it prudent to ask the Physician to check—to check on Merlin."

Uther arched an eyebrow at his knight who looked like he was valiantly tried to keep a straight face. "Might I ask how Arthur's Merlin was injured?"

Leon coughed again. "Er—sire… Prince Arthur—"

"Swore you to silence?" Uther leaned on his table to eye his knight. "But wouldn't your King outrank your Prince?"

Leon sucked in a deep breath. "Erm—Right. Well—Merlin tried his hand at hunting rabbits. And—he didn't— manage to kill it at the first pounce."

Uther stared at him for a while before his face started to contort in a grimace. Leon nodded perfunctorily at his King. "Yes, m'Lord, I believe you are imagining the very thing.

"The rabbit took off with Merlin clinging to its back like he was riding a horse, and—it also tried to cram itself unsuccessfully into a hole."

Uther sat down hard clutching his ribs. "And yes," Leon went on, "seeing how it couldn't escape into its burrow with Merlin still attached to its back, the rabbit turned on him." Leon sniggered behind his glove while his King's face turned quite purple. "And—I—er—think I better give you some privacy, Sire."

The knight bowed before swiftly leaving the King's chambers while Gaius followed to lock the door after him. When Gaius returned, he solemnly handed his struggling King a pillow while raising an eyebrow with his next statement. "Yes, it sounds like poor Merlin was just beaten up by a rabbit."

Uther snatched the pillow and bellowed his laughter into it, while Gaius shook his head with a smile and laughed behind a raised hand. Truly, he couldn't remember seeing Uther laugh this much in decades.

"Oh, Gaius." Uther wheezed as he came up for air after a good ferocious laugh. "Am I a wicked man for hoping that your apprentice is never restored?"

Gaius frowned at him mock-frostily, "why, Sire, you shock me with your wickedness. You'd leave your son to pine after an unattainable love?"

"At the rate they were going before Merlin was transformed, that bet among the knights was never going to be won anyway." Uther looked at him appealingly.

"And yet we've both put more money into the pot too, *after* Merlin's transformation." Gaius scoffed at his oldest friend. "I still have faith in your son and Merlin, Sire. Somehow—someday—Arthur will find a way to turn Merlin back."

"Yes, I suppose so." Uther dropped the pillow on the table with a sigh. "Until then I'll just maintain this wicked wish that my son doesn't discover how to too soon."

Gaius smiled wryly at his King as he handed him the foul smelling mug. "Well, here it is. And if that is all, Sire, I believe I had better return to my quarters to take care of my newest patient."

"Do give my regards, Gaius. And—say thank you to Merlin for me, would you?" Uther sniggered behind a fist. "I am guessing he was trying to catch me a rabbit at Arthur's instigation to make up for this morning's collision. Not that you need say anymore, but—the laugh was worth it."

"Of course, Sire."

With Gaius's departure, Uther sucked in a deep breath and leaned back in his seat to stare at the ceiling. He had to reflect on these several months since Arthur's manservant became his Merlin. It was just uncanny to Uther how much he actually liked the hapless falcon when he had always been annoyed and impatient with the manservant.

It hadn't mattered to Uther that the little raptor was not acting naturally at all and was a perfect example of the misery magic could cause to a life. But he accepted Merlin despite the stink of magic about him. It made him think about his steadfast stance against magic. Surely something which brought such comedy and humour to life around his Court couldn't be all bad and malicious.

Uther knew he was going to miss the comedy and humour when Arthur finally restored his Merlin. And he didn't doubt his son's determination and ability either. When his son finally realised what he really felt for his manservant, Uther was sure that would be when Arthur would find a way to break the curse.

~end~

* * *

Note: Credit to Calandre for a phrase she made in her review to me ;) It's not exactly the same, but the spirit's there. Thanks.

Thanks for reading.  
Cheers, firewolf


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